


Shadow of existence

by JaneDoe1988



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Gen, Other, The X-Files - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDoe1988/pseuds/JaneDoe1988
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This little fic I conducted is an attempt to investigate Scully's life during the three months Mulder was "dead" in the season 8-episode "Deadalive" . The show dealt with his funeral and immediately jumped forward three months. I personally did not find this satisfying enough and always wondered what Scully would have been up to and how she would have dealt with knowing that she would "never see him again". So this is my way of dealing with this particular gap.</p><p>(this is my first ever fic, so please be gentle ;) - but I do appreciate constructive criticism and general feedback)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow of existence

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to their brilliant creator Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox. 
> 
> The content of this fic is all mine though there will be some mentionings of content that was written by the brilliant writers of the show.

'I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!'

(Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë) 

'He is gone, -my heart - void, rid of all but the steady beating of it's continuum. I know it cannot be filled with joy again as long as I live... but I fear that if not taken care of it may shatter into a million pieces and I will drown in the depths of the dark remains of my soul for all eternity... he was my everything and now he is buried in the cold earth... I will never see him again... how can I possibly live another day when I am just a shadow of existence.'

21st of January 2001:

With shaky hands she began to roam through her handbag in search of her house keys when she heard footsteps thudding through the snow behind her. Slowly she turned her head, almost expecting, almost hoping to see a familiar face, to see his face - his eyes. A sudden realization of just how "impossible" that was crept into her heart. Skinner had dropped her off only 2 minutes earlier after a 5-hour car ride back from Raleigh, North Carolina where Agent Fox Mulder had been buried that very morning.

She slowly shook her head, letting her younger neighbor pass her by to open the house door to their Georgetown apartment building. A weak and weary smile appeared on her lips - the kind of smile that speaks of sadness and never reaches the eyes. She mouthed her thanks while quickly glancing up into the man's eyes before forcefully stuffing her gloves into the handbag, entering the entrance hall in silence.

She walked across the hallway as if on autopilot, blankly staring into nothingness while taking the steps of the stairs one by one, not truly aware of her surroundings. Somehow she still felt like she was stuck in a mad dream and she had felt this way ever since Mulder went missing 4 months earlier- it was as if at any moment she would wake up in her bed and life would continue as before; with him still at her side searching for his truth, for that one thing that would maybe one day bring peace to his mind and heart. Her hands involuntarily started caressing her belly at the thought. She had only started showing properly in the past month.

A long sigh escaped her throat as she walked down the corridor almost in slow motion, her free hand still placed on her belly. Nearing her apartment door, only the click clack of her high heals and the wheels of her suitcase on the floor were audible. After roaming through her handbag once more, her fingers finally made contact with a round metal object - she pulled out her keys and her eyes fell on an old birthday gift he had given her once. She had laughed it off at the time, not knowing just how much solace and at the same time how much heartache she would one day find when looking at an "Apollo 11" key chain. In her mind's eye she could still see him smiling that goofy smile when handing her the small box, genuinely happy that he remembered her birthday that year.

She could feel her eyes sting from the tears that threatened to be her undoing again and the lump in her throat that was growing every second that passed in a world without him. She needed to somehow be strong and pull herself together enough to at least eat a little, be it only for the little person growing inside her - and she needed a shower and her bed. "Sleep" she sighed out loud, almost with a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she turned the keys in the lock, slowly opening the door to her home. The room smelled of a mixture of Lavender and Vanilla-candles. Nothing had physically changed in the 4 days she was gone. Everything was in its designated place- untouched, everything seemed the same. Yet everything was different and nothing would ever be the same again.

Leaving her suitcase next to the door and putting her handbag in the living room wardrobe, she took off her coat and carelessly tossed it on the armrest of the sofa along with her keys. She continued to undress on her way to her bathroom. Once she had removed all her clothing she stepped into the large bathtub. Even the warm water could not get rid of the chill she felt within. She sat in the bathtub, the hot water running down her back and she started shivering and trembling. It was too much to bear-this could not possibly be happening. She knew that his arms would never be able to warm her again and that his warmth would be lost to her forever. There was no hope left now. It was over. How on earth could she go on... She began weeping and sobbing in a way a little child would, loud and frantic, her breathing quick and violent, she started gasping for air in between sobs.

After what felt like an hour to her it was over - she felt nothing- that feeling of nothingness after one had experienced unspeakable pain and trauma. She needed to switch to autopilot again. She got out of the bath and put her white bathrobe on heading to the kitchen. She felt a numbness covering her body like a protective film whilst preparing a tuna salad. She sat down at the table and ate her food quickly. It had no taste. For all she knew she could have been eating paper.

After rinsing her bowl and fork she moved back into the living room. From the corner of her eyes she could see her answering machine flashing red. She would listen to the message in the morning, if she woke up that was. She felt herself not caring if she did or not. It was a few minutes past 10 pm and she just wanted to not think anymore. The numbness helped but it was not enough. She picked up her coat and keys and relocated both into their appropriate place. On her way to her bedroom she caught a glance of herself in the hallway mirror and stopped to look at her reflection.

She saw dark circles underneath her eyes. Slowly she untied her bathrobe and let it drop to the floor. Her skin seemed paler than usual and her breasts were slightly swollen. Her bulging belly was sitting quite high and her mother had told her that this meant she was having a boy. Being a medical doctor Scully knew of course that these predictions meant nothing but she could not help thinking of a little boy wearing Mulder's eyes and smile and her red hair and nose. She could feel a sensation in her uterus that was almost painful but not quite, her hands slowly closed over her belly in a protective motion. She knew then that she had to care about waking up the next morning. She had to stay alive, if only to in about 4 months look into their baby's eyes and see him there.


End file.
